Avowal
by StarKatt427
Summary: Heading back to Burgess for the beginning of winter is something Jack Frost looks forward to every year, especially now that he can be seen by the children he has sworn to protect. But when Jamie is once again targeted by Pitch, Jack will have to put winter temporarily on hold and become the Guardian Jamie needs.
1. Descent into Darkness

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians, nor The Guardians of Childhood book series; the film belongs to DreamWorks Animation and the book series to William Joyce.**

**A/N: First of all, Happy Easter! What better present than a RotG story? The idea for this one has been with me since around November, and I was just sitting on it until I finally decided to try writing it instead of just certain little scenes, so it took a while before it was even fit to be read. I had a lot of fun working with this one, even though it felt like it took _forever_ to write at times, and I'm very happy with the turnout! Also, a quick note: I moved Jamie's age back (I originally had him aged at ten in Snow in Summer, where he is now eight, which is why he's nine in this story).**

**********There will be two chapters total, with the next going up fairly soon.** I originally wrote this as one big story, but I decided to go a different way by dividing this into two chapters for publishing, one reason being because I know it's probably a pain for everyone to sit and read all of one of my longer stories at once. So stay tuned and feel free to leave feedback on how you liked this chapter and how you celebrated Easter! Personally, I was in church this morning, remembering just why this holiday means so much to me, and I'll be with my dad's family for the afternoon.  


**StarKatt427**

* * *

There weren't many places better than Burgess in winter. Snow fell abundantly, covering the evergreens and providing the makings for snowballs and forts, setting the scene for sled rides and a number of other activities. The lakes froze over, the wind was crisp, and the sun, though it shone brightly, did not thaw the wonderland of ice.

In other words, it was perfect.

Although it was still one more day until winter officially began, Jack Frost's abilities were nearly at their greatest and he was in full swing, bringing along snow flurries in his wake and laughter and howls of exhilaration echoing throughout the town. He hadn't been back to Burgess since last winter's end, so as he road the wind through the streets and flew past buildings, he couldn't help but feel a little giddy, whooping and dive bombing at tops speeds. It had been a while since he'd felt this keyed up, this good, and it took all he had to reign his powers in so that he didn't start a full-out snowfall over the entire town; that would come in due time.

He had been waiting for this moment for _weeks_, to finally return home and have some fun and just celebrate his season with the group of children who first saw him twenty months ago, though a part of him especially returned to visit with the child who'd been the first to say his name and see him as he now was, the first to know he truly existed.

With every push-off from a building and every landing on the top of a vehicle, frost caked the surface his feet alighted on and his hands brushed over and his staff tapped, and already snow was beginning to settle in the clouds so that it would soon be falling down upon the town. The year before, he'd waited until it was formally winter before allowing it to snow, but now he just couldn't: too excited and overcome with the mischief he was still prone to, he reveled in the icy wetness that would soon be falling to the earth and catching in people's hair, chilling their exposed skin.

A few kids, the ones not old enough to be in school yet, saw him. Latched onto their mother's hands or carried in arms, little faces brightened at him and hands waved, and Jack responded likewise with a grin, finding such joy in their delight and the fact that they could see him. It didn't matter that their mothers stared right through him or looked past when they asked their children who they were waving at; they were adults, long given up on their belief in the Guardians. But the children saw him, and each time one of the small toddlers called out his name, he would form a snowflake on the tips of his fingers and send it floating their way, heartened by their glee.

Still, it wasn't enough to satisfy that almost hungry excitement he felt. It was great seeing these kids and having them see him in return, making them smile, but he wasn't getting that feeling: the one that had him jubilant and grounded and contented and protective and inwardly peaceful all at once and, strangely enough, warm; the one he felt so rarely, only when he was with a certain child who could pull out such an assortment of emotions in him.

Jamie.

It was nearing three o'clock, almost time for classes to let out, and Jack flew in the direction of the elementary school. It took next to no time for the wind to carry him across town, and just when the large school building came into sight, the bell rang out from the loudspeakers, signaling the end of another Friday and the beginning of the weekend. He perched on one of the higher limbs of a tree across the street, which gave him a perfect view of the children as they began filing out through the doors, bundled up to ward off the winter chill, laughing and playing around and basking in their freedom. He recognized a few of then as Jamie's friends, others being children who had come to believe in him during the beginning of the year: all of them ones he would see later.

No sign of Jamie.

Not yet bothered by the fact that Jamie had not left with his friends, Jack continued scanning over the school grounds and streets, searching for the familiar figure.

And spotted his target.

With a grin, Jack sailed downward toward the child, who was barely watching where he was going, nose buried in a book like always. Jack hovered silently behind him, his feet a few inches off the sidewalk, and remained so for at least a good minute, following after Jamie as he somehow managed to avoid tripping, not once lifting his eyes from the pages before him. Finally, realizing he probably wasn't even aware of is surroundings, Jack reached out and tapped his shoulder.

Before Jamie had even turned, Jack flipped over so that he was now in front of him, watching amusedly as the dark haired boy looked behind him for the culprit. Finally realizing no one was there, he turned back around, only to find himself nose to nose with Jack Frost.

Jamie startled back with a choked-off shout and wide eyes, book slipping from his hands to hit the concrete sidewalk, and then he was grinning that wide, thrilled grin Jack loved seeing on his face. He breathed out a laugh, too surprised or delighted to even retrieve the book. "What was that for?"

Jack shrugged flippantly, although he was unable to hide his own enthusiasm or ignore the way he felt another surge of winter rush through his veins, glad to be seeing his best friend for the first time in nearly half a year, the longing he'd hardly been aware of receding to be replaced by a buoyant happiness that had him remembering just how long it _had _been. Children grew so quickly, and missing even a few months of Jamie's childhood was undesirable; Jack couldn't complain, however, since he was able to see him and the rest of the children more than the other Guardians could. Thankfully, he didn't notice anything too different about the nine-year-old: definitely taller, face just a little less round, but ultimately Jamie.

"You didn't notice me," he responded. "Too busy reading, as usual. I came all this way, just to be beaten by a book." He bent to scoop up the fallen hardback, simultaneously looking at the cover and grinning: _Chupacabra—Myth or Reality? _"Well, it does look pretty cool," he admitted.

"It is," Jamie assured, then added after a moment with a grin, "but not as cool as Jack Frost."

The winter sprite laughed. "Good point," he said, handing the book over to Jamie, who tucked it under his arm, attention now focused entirely on Jack. He could see it, the animation in those eyes, in that smile, the happiness shining out in his words, and it made him feel good in a way he was still getting used to. Someone was happy to see him, genuinely happy, and it was amazing. It was also extremely surprising at just how normal this felt, the joking around, like it had only been a few days since he'd last seen Jamie.

Jack noticed Jamie glance around, watchful of any adult who might think he was "talking to himself", then assume a more natural position by leaning his back against the fence and tuning his head to face Jack, who now stood in the middle of the sidewalk. "I was wondering if you were going to show up today," the child commented.

Jack smiled slightly, idly twirling his staff. "Day before winter, right? 'Course I would, just like last year. A bit later than before, but I still made it."

"I watched for you at recess, and when I didn't see you anywhere, I wasn't sure if you were busy or had forgotten." Jamie twiddled his thumbs, smiling up crookedly at Jack, obviously unsure what else to say.

Jack was quiet a moment, trying to gather his thoughts on how to answer. He'd always managed to return home so that when the first day of winter rolled around, the land was covered with snow; of course, Jamie had only known him for the last year, so it was understandable for the child to be unsure whether to expect him or not. But there was no way Jack could or would ever forget Burgess, or Jamie. The year before, he'd managed to come back early in the morning, surprising Jamie with frosted windows and a familiar snow-made rabbit hopping around his head, showering him with gentle flakes.

A slight tug in his chest had Jack smiling, albeit more gently than before, and he reached out to rest on Jamie's head. "I didn't forget. Some last minute business in Norway took a little longer than I'd figured it would, but there's no way I was going to miss this."

Something cold brushed against his cheek, causing a sudden grin to spread across Jack's face as he looked up, Jamie following after him to stare at the snow now falling lazily from the light gray sky. He looked back to Jamie, letting his hand scuffle Jamie's already unkempt hair. "Perfect timing, huh?"

Jamie lightly shoved Jack's hand away, eyes laughing beneath his lashes as he smoothed his hair down: reassured.

Once again at ease due to the fact that Jamie was untroubled, Jack asked, "So, weekend. Got any plans?"

"We were supposed to visit my grandparents, but they both have the flu, so Mom hasn't made any other plans. But since you're here now, it's gonna be a lot of fun." Jamie lifted his eyes up to the light snowfall once again, sticking his tongue out to catch a flake and laughing. "I mean, it's already snowing."

"Not enough to stick," Jack warned. "But by tomorrow…" He flashed a toothy grin, already imagining the whiteness everywhere and the kids trudging through it, chunking snowballs at one another. An entire day outside in the snow; what could be better?

Jamie, eyes getting larger and brighter and mouth spreading into a broad smile, was apparently thinking the same thing, which was another reason he endeared himself so much to Jack: he absolutely loved winter. "This is gonna be great! Wait 'til everyone knows you're here. Maybe they can come over in a little while, and Mom will let Sophie play if I watch her, so—"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down!" Jack said through a laugh, hand extended to stop him, having nearly missed some of what was said because of how fast Jamie spoke when excited. "As much fun as that sounds—" and he meant it, it truly did sound awesome—"I can't. Not today, at least," he explained, lifting off the ground and landing on the top of a fence, now towering over Jamie. "I've got some rounds to make, a few more places to bring in winter to before I can take time off."

He saw Jamie's face fall; it was for only a second, and then he was smiling again, albeit with not as much enthusiasm. But it still had guilt instantly crawling in Jack's belly for making him look so disappointed. He was used to letting down people in the past, namely the Guardians, but when it came to Jamie, he could hardly stand it. Jack slid a hand into the pocket of his sweatshirt, pressing his palm against his middle, trying to push the knot away.

"Busy day, huh?" asked Jamie, head thrown back against the fence so that he was looking up at him.

"Almost every day's busy," Jack answered, acutely aware of how before last year, every day had been nothing but hours of soaring on the wind and letting mischief reign supreme, of play and no worries; of course, no human could see him before last year. There were moments when he missed those days and the freedoms he had lost, but most of the time, he was more grateful for what he had gained: a place to belong, friends that truly cared about him, a purpose, believers. "What can I say? Starting off winter's kind of a big deal. And since I'm guessing you want plenty of snow, I've got my work cut out for me."

The child laughed, not arguing with the point made.

And even though he was smiling again, Jack couldn't get rid of that ball of unease in his stomach, like he was doing something wrong, like he was letting Jamie down. That sad little pull of his lips, the slight darkening of his eyes, had Jack anxious to do anything to keep that look from cropping up on his face again, to please him and make him smile and laugh, always laugh. To have fun.

"Tell you what," he began, flipping off the fence and landing in front of Jamie, stooping in front of him like he so often did. "I'll come by tonight, and we'll do the usual."

_The usual _involved Jack arriving around nine-thirty, not long after Jamie was supposed to be in bed, and the two doing anything possible; whether it was sneaking out to a secluded place where Jack could cause enough snow to play in or simply piling up on Jamie's bed and talking for hours, Jamie about school and his mother and sister and sometimes even his father or a new game or toy, and Jack about his adventures over the last three centuries, playing tricks on Bunny or trying to bust into North's castle. Jamie, who Jack could see was a storyteller by nature, preferred to listen during these moments, convinced his life was boring in comparison to Jack's, while Jack enjoyed hearing about what all Jamie did, his own childhood so far away and certain memories still jumbled that it made him feel peaceful to hear about and see the way Jamie loved his mother and sister, reminding him of how he loved his own from the memories he had of them.

But tonight, Jack had a very good feeling he would be working on the snow he'd assured Jamie of.

After a moment, Jamie's smile grew back into the one Jack wanted, and he nodded. "Deal."

* * *

Jack tore through the night, begging the wind to carry him faster and cursing himself for letting time get away from him. The Southern states truly were cursed by infernally high temperatures; seventy-four degrees in the middle of December was unnatural and enough to have Jack a little sluggish after spending most of the afternoon and part of the night battling with a heat that fought tooth and nail against his winter chill.

There was no excuse for it: he was late, and it was his own fault (to be technical, it was summer and autumn's fault, the two seasons refusing to give way to the flow of nature and let winter take its place, which had resulted in Jack nearly getting downright sick from such heated conditions). He wasn't stopping to check the time, though he knew it was far later than nine-thirty, and the knowledge that he was going to be more than a little late propelled him farther, his magic working with the wind. It seemed like the trip was taking hours when it should have only been thirty minutes at the most, and Jack could feel the black of night growing deeper.

"Come on, Wind, _please_."

Finally, _finally_, the terrain changed into the familiar forests surrounding Burgess, then to the city itself, and Jack let out a relieved breath, though his stomach was tight with guilt and nerves as he flew down the streets, heading in the direction of Jamie's suburban home.

The ringing toll of the town square clock had Jack screeching to an abrupt halt, eyes locking on the clock's face.

"Oh no," he groaned.

Midnight.

Two-and-a-half hours late.

Jack's hand tightened around his staff, blue frost shooting up and down it as he pushed off of the nearest building, propelling himself forward.

* * *

The house was completely dark, not even the porch and garage lights on, which was a little odd; even the window that belonged to Miss Bennett was dark, something that normally would have been a good thing. Now, however, it was just another reminder of how he had failed to make it in time. Exhaling a breath where he stood in the street, Jack was just about to lift off when something sudden rolled through him, causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end.

It was a feeling that wasn't easily describable and something he'd only experienced a few times: ominous and cold but not _his _cold, like a dreary chill that fed on something dark. It had him completely tense, body taught as he jerked around, looking to the shadows, under the streetlights, at the parked cars—

Jack's eyes locked back on the street lights. Every one of them was on, illuminating the area below like it should have, except for the one outside Jamie's home.

Jack's stomach hollowed out as he looked back to the porch. No light.

Couldn't be a coincidence.

He knew this feeling, the one that thrived off fears and tried to make them into reality; he'd faced it not even two years ago, and it was something that would never leave him.

"No. No way."

Pitch Black.

Disbelief shot through Jack, hand tightening on his staff without thinking as he spun around, prepared for anything as he searched the shadows. Even as he stood ready, nothing appeared: no slinking darkness, nothing even moved.

Still apprehensive, Jack focused on the dark sensation surrounding him, searching it out, and he finally concluded that it didn't feel like before, like it wasn't…whole, like he wasn't feeling the real Pitch; just a piece of him. More like one of his nightmares.

And as he turned back to Jamie's house, he understood why.

The fear was worse than the shock as Jack pushed off the ground, and he was at Jamie's window in less than a second, balancing on the frame and trying to see inside the shadowy bedroom. It was never this dark, since Jamie always had a nightlight going, but the absolute blackness of the room was answer enough; there wasn't even any moonlight, it seemed, like it was aware of the evil creeping up the walls and refused to enter. He slid in through the unlocked window with barely a sound.

And there was Jamie, tossing and mumbling in sleep, the sheets a twisted mess around him.

Jack leaned over the bed, noticing that Jamie's stuffed rabbit, the one he slept with every night, was on the floor, which wasn't a good sign. He reached out to shake Jamie's shoulder, hand pressing against his back urgently. "Jamie. Hey, kiddo, wake up."

A soft moan was his only response, the small body beneath his hand turning away from him.

Trying to remain calm and not let the sudden burst of fear get the better of him,

Jack turned Jamie back over so that he was on his other side and facing him, kneeling on the bed and shaking him a bit more forcefully. "Kid, come on, time to get up. Now."

Jamie whimpered, the sound horribly small and pitiful and causing a violent tremor to run through Jack's body, and he could feel it, the way his heart was thumping up his throat and his chest was clenched with adrenaline fear. Why wasn't he _waking up_? He tried to coax Jamie out of the ball he was curled into, but the little boy's muscles were bunched tight with fear, and Jamie released another stabbing moan, mumbling incoherently.

"Jamie, open your eyes. Wake up!"

The shake of a head, the scrunching up of closed eyes, fingers clenching and unclenching. "_No_."

Jack laid his staff on the other side of the bed and flipped Jamie onto his back, struggling not to panic as he forced the child to straighten out; he looked utterly defenseless lying there, arms pulling in as if to shield himself, hands at his face and entire body jerking with each moaned "no" that left his lips. Jack kneeled over him, pinning him down so that he didn't hurt himself with his thrashing and pressing a hand to his sleep-warmed face, hoping the iciness would snap him awake, but even that failed; Jamie simply whined deep in his throat, trying to escape the nightmare.

"Jamie!" He yanked him upward, harder than he'd meant to, but it did little good. "If you don't wake up, I'm gonna freeze you're skinny butt! Do you hear me?"

Of course it didn't work; fear was getting to him, making him desperate.

That was when he saw it, circling just above Jamie's head, sliding out of the darkness: a swirling mass of gritty black sand that had no definite shape, spewing out a nightmare foul enough to have Jamie actually moaning in his sleep, golden dream turned to dark nightmare.

A Fearling.

He'd known it was Pitch; he just hadn't wanted to believe it, that he could have returned already. Now, with Jamie caught in the middle of one of his night terrors, there was no denying it.

Rage shot through him, colder than cold and enough to burn, as he focused his attention on the black sand. "_Release him,_" Jack commanded, voice deadly calm but on the verge of turning into a full-out snarl, edged with ice and biting.

The Fearling seemed to halt, as if somehow studying him, then pressed on, increasing in speed. As if affected, Jamie let out a half-choked breath, trying to free himself from the hold Jack still had on him.

Jack had to force himself to keep his eyes off of Jamie, the tightness crushing his chest trying to pull him back to the child still caught in a nightmare, but practicality won out as he focused on Pitch's minion. With his free hand, he sent out a burst of ice blue frost, zapping the nightmare in an attempt to freeze it, but it simply spread out, dodging the attack so that the blue crystals hit the wall, a thin layer of ice about the size of a handprint coating the wallpaper.

There was no face, no features…and yet, Jack could have sworn the thing smiled, as if Pitch were mocking him. It circled in on itself, contorting and shifting as an image tried to form, gritty sand giving him a better target but growing in strength as a consequence.

Beneath him, a strangled whisper from Jamie. "_Jack_."

What little patience Jack had left snapped, Jamie calling out for him his undoing. His hand locked around his staff, a massive flash of blue energy shooting up the wood so that the room literally glowed as he aimed it at the nightmare, sending a shock of frigid cold out from his body and directly into the Fearling.

The nightmare, which never had had enough power to retain a physical shape for long, blew outward as the icy shock tore through it, black ice flying in shards that ripped through the room. A piece caught Jack's cheek, tearing a thin gash that burned more than anything, and he watched as the shards exploded in the air, the sound of shattering glass breaking into the silence as what remained of the black sand trickled out of the open window, leaving Jack staring after it, panting in gasps that refused to enter correctly.

As the room calmed, a pale light flooded inside, Man in Moon seeing that Pitch's presence had vanished and illuminating the inky darkness with his pure light. Jack sighed deeply, letting his head drop.

A startled breath, eyes opening wide and staring into nothing, and Jamie was awake.

Jack, gaze snapping back to the boy, released a relieved breath, raking a hand through his hair. He began to smile, but stopped. "Jamie?"

He leaned back over the dazed child, who still did not seem to be entirely awake, though he was blinking now. Alarm iced over his stomach at the terror still apparent in those eyes, but also because of the vacancy, the emptiness brought about by the nightmare.

After several painstaking moments, Jamie slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, eyes searching around the room quickly, breaths slightly spasmodic, and Jack backed away to give him room, though he wanted nothing more than to shake away whatever fears were hanging onto him.

Jamie looked around the room, eyes shining unnaturally bright. "Jack?"

"Yeah?"

He went still, eyes widening, before they settled back to where Jack crouched on the bed. But his gaze was empty, unfocused, like he was…

Seeing through him.

"Jack?" he repeated, voice higher this time, fearful and suddenly extremely young.

"Right here," Jack said, leaning in a little closer, trying to keep his newfound fear in check. Jamie couldn't not see him, it wasn't possible.

Then again, nightmaresand shouldn't be possible either. Not anymore. Not since Pitch had been defeated.

Jack was still too bewildered to truly feel the anger that was setting up inside of him, but it was still there, trying to pull him under if he let it and consume him. He would have to worry about what this attack meant later, attention now focused on his friend and whatever demon was still haunting him.

Jamie's bottom lip quivered, teary eyes staring wildly but not seeing. "I can't…J-Jack, I can't see you."

Panic. It shot through his every limb, searing his heart like a knife and tearing the air from his lungs, leaving him gaping like the first time he'd been walked through, his entire body affected by the shock: everything went into overdrive, wrenching him forward as he stared into the little boy's watery sightless eyes.

Jamie couldn't see him.

Clenching his teeth until he thought they might crack, Jack reached out and grabbed his shoulders firmly, relieved that his hands didn't slip through, and held him tight. "I'm here. In front of you." _See me. Please, please see me._

He watched as, after a moment, the fog lifted from brown eyes, tears spilling over as the nightmare cleared, and those eyes fixed on him, _saw _him. Breath after jerky breath shook Jamie's chest, and another wave of tears wound down his cheeks.

Exhaling a shaken laugh that was more of a strangled breath, Jack brought his hands up to either side of Jamie's head. "It's okay. Only a bad dream."

A trembling little hand touched his face, warm against his chilled skin, and Jamie exhaled unevenly, tears coming faster.

"I'm right here," Jack softly assured.

And then the Jamie broke, falling against him with a sob and quivering violently.

Jack lifted his arms, letting them hover unsurely for a moment, then put his hands on Jamie's shoulders, sliding them down so that he was holding the crying child. He placed a hand to the back of his head, pressing him closer and soothingly, clumsily, stroking his fingers through his soft hair. "Hey, it's okay, it's okay," he said quickly, not sure how to calm him. "It was a nightmare, that's all. It's over…"

He didn't have a clue as to what he should be doing; the memories of his sister weeping were distant, from another time, and though he could recall calming her, keeping her from crying, he felt at a loss for what to do with the small body clinging to him.

"I...I couldn't see you...I c-couldn't _see _you, Jack."

If the fact that Jack had once more been invisible had scared Jamie that badly, it had terrified Jack; for one moment, it was like the last three hundred years all over again, only worse now because he had known the sweetness of being seen, of being somebody to someone.

He couldn't go back to that. And especially not when he had come to know Jamie.

"I know, but you can now." He pressed his face into Jamie's hair, every sob that shook through the little boy another hit to his center, tears soaking into his hoodie.

"S-scared…" Jamie mumbled, hands shaking against Jack's back where he clung tight to him. "Scared you were gone."

Jack's hold tightened, chest feeling strangely hollow. "No. Not ever. I'm always with you, remember?"

He heard Jamie suck in a breath, only to have it taken as another sob exited him, arms surprisingly tight around Jack's middle. "Sorry. I'm s-sorry I couldn't see you."

"_Stop it_," Jack ordered, voice harsher than he'd intended; the ache radiating up through his chest was getting worse the longer Jamie's small form shook against his, his anger with Pitch growing into something cancerous every time he heard Jamie get choked on tears, felt hands clutching desperately to him, remembered the raw fear imprinted into those deep eyes when Jamie couldn't see him. Jack pulled him back, regretting it when the little boy's head fell forward and he could see the tears coating his cheeks, eyes unable to open without more wetness leaking from them. He grasped Jamie's head, lifting his face so that he was looking up at him, brown eyes large and lashes stuck together, lip quivering and tears sliding over his mouth.

"It's not your fault, okay?" Jack said, lower this time, willing Jamie to listen to him. "You can see me, you _know _I'm real. I'm right here, I have you, and I'm not going anywhere."

Jamie shook his head, hands unwinding from around him to latch onto the front of his hoodie, trying to speak but getting choked on tears.

Jack couldn't remember having ever seen Jamie cry in the time he had known him; the kid was strong, too optimistic to find much of anything to be too sad over, so this was something excruciating for Jack. He didn't like seeing kids cry anyway, being a Guardian, but this…this literally _hurt_.

He leaned forward, hands still cradling Jamie's face, and after a moment on indecision, wiped his thumbs over sticky, warm cheeks, cooling tears in the hopes of drying them. "Jamie, you have to try and calm down, okay? You can barely breathe."

Sucking in violent breaths, Jamie used one of his hands to wipe at his face, smearing tears and coughing, and Jack could feel the small fingers against his trembling. A sob hitched the child's chest, fat drops coming fast as he tried in vain to make them stop, throat working to swallow down tears only to gag on them.

Jack took his hand, small fingers momentarily encased by his larger ones, then let both of his hands slide around to grip the back of Jamie's neck, pressing his forehead to the boy's. Focusing on his center, he felt icy magic begin sliding through his veins, through nerves and muscles and bones, until it immerged at his fingertips where they rested on Jamie's erratic pulse.

Jamie's breath halted, wet brown eyes opening wide to stare at him.

Jack smiled, though the action hurt, and he let his hands return to Jamie's face, cradling his cheeks. "Don't apologize, okay? You see me. That's all I need."

The little boy blinked furiously, tears still coming but not quite as forcefully, and he nodded and nodded again, before pressing himself back against Jack.

Several minutes passed, Jack pulling Jamie onto his legs so that he had a better hold of him as his tears quieted, finally slowing enough so that his small body began lessening in trembles. But as Jack began to readjust him, trying to find a more comfortable position, all progress nearly evaporated as Jamie startled, frantically grasping at him with glazed eyes: sleep this time, not the veil that had hidden Jack from his sight.

"You're fine," Jack said quickly, reassuming his consoling ministrations by squeezing his shoulders, tugging the exhausted, distressed child back against him. "I've got you."

Jamie buried his face deeper against his hoodie, hands fisted in the material. "Please don't leave. Please…"

Each plead was a stab: burning, causing Jack's throat to constrict and his arms long to just remain wrapped around Jamie and never let him go, to erase every fear and keep him safe, to make him laugh and smile and never, _ever_, cry. But he couldn't do that; he wasn't sure how to express everything inside him, years of never having a person interact with him having taken its toll. All he could do was lean back against the headboard, bringing his legs up to sit crossed-legged and framing Jamie in his arms, knowing that, for once, his low body temperature would be a comfort, reminding Jamie that he was, in fact, there.

The one thing Jack knew for certain was that he wouldn't be letting this child out of his immediate sight for a long, long time.

"I won't leave you."

Thankfully, Jamie stilled against him, and Jack sighed in relief.

Jamie, finally, went still once more, giving Jack a chance to search out the room for any more traces of Pitch's black sand. He found nothing, the burned-out nightlight and Jamie's state the only indication the dark spirit had ever struck.

It was then that, out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw something red hanging off the bed, kicked to the bottom so that it nearly touched the floorboards, and after a moment of scrutiny, he felt something in him crack.

Jamie's jacket, thrown over the edge of his mattress.

Craning his head, Jack looked to the floor, and sure enough, there was a pair of sneakers.

He'd fallen asleep. Waiting on him.

The pain that hit Jack was familiar, like when he'd let Baby Tooth get captured and when he hadn't been there to help keep Bunny's eggs safe, the sadness and disappointment in their eyes awful in a way he had never known. This time, however, was far worse than anything he could have ever imagined. It was like an excruciating weight pressing on his chest that caused the back of his throat to ache and his center to throb, lungs seeming to constrict and the back of his eyes burn: it was like actual pain.

He had failed a child, the very thing he protected. And not just any child, but Jamie, the one person who had absolute faith in him. He hadn't been there to protect him from Pitch.

Jack closed his eyes, head bowed and eyes shut tight as he tried to push down the emotions threatening to tear him apart, wishing more than anything that he could just stop letting people down. He sighed, tightening his hold of the sniffing child in the hopes of making the pain radiating from his center ease. "I'm sorry, Jamie. I'm so sorry."

* * *

It took longer than Jack would have liked, but eventually, Jamie's tears turned into hiccups, then sniffs, until it was just the occasional hitching of his breath as he began to fall asleep, though he was fighting it. Jack didn't let his hand touch any part of the child's warm skin, afraid the cold temperature of his own body might wake him, so he contented himself with rubbing over his thin back, slightly rocking him and humming under his breath, able to remember his mother doing the same for him when he'd been a child plagued by nightmares.

Nightmares. Pitch Black.

There was no denying Pitch was behind this; no one else had the power to corrupt dreams. But when Pitch had said he would return, Jack hadn't thought it would be so soon, not if he hadn't resurfaced from the Dark Ages until recently.

When he remembered Jamie caught in Pitch's nightmare, the black sand above his head and the way Jamie hadn't been able to see him, it filled his stomach with a bubbling acid, threatening to send his powers shooting outward and destroy everything in sight. If it had been during his first hundred years, he wouldn't have been able to hold it in; it would have torn through his body and caused enough damage to put lives at risk. Even now, holding back such anger-fused magic was taxing, but Jack did it, refusing to endanger Jamie any farther.

He would have to wait and unleash his fury the moment he found Pitch.

Now, the only thing he could do was get to the others and let them know that the Boogeyman was coming back. There was no way he would leave Jamie, especially after Pitch targeted him, but letting the other Guardians know couldn't wait.

Careful not to jostle Jamie awake, Jack slid a hand into his left pocket, palm curling over the small glass object he'd had since his last visit to Santa's a few months ago, sliding it free so that it rested on the middle of his palm. He studied the small orb, about half the size of a golf ball and crystal clear: a new Snow Globe of North's, smaller than any other he had made.

Barely above a whisper, Jack spoke his destination: "North's Workshop."

Instantly, the clear glass came alive, glowing with the image of the Globe Room at North's home, a familiar, welcome.

Jack tossed the snow globe, the portal it created illuminating the bedroom with the image of the safe haven. Jack slid out from beneath Jamie, who fortunately did not wake, and once standing, picked him up, the child instinctively wrapping his legs around his middle and arms twining around his neck as he mumbled, burrowing his face into Jack's hoodie. Jack soothed him with a few gentle hums, hand rubbing up his back briefly, before grabbing his staff and looking back to the swirling gateway.

Holding tight to Jamie, he took three quick, running steps and let himself be pulled into the portal.

* * *

**There ya go! Hope you'll come back for Chapter Two.**

**Also, I made a reference to Jamie's dad: I didn't elaborate on him because I haven't decided yet what I want to have happened to him. Has he died? Or is he and Jamie's mom divorced? I'll try to decide on this later.**


	2. Ascent into Light

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians, nor The Guardians of Childhood book series; the film belongs to DreamWorks Animation and the book series to William Joyce.**

**A/N: Back with the second half! Although this chapter was more difficult for me to write, I really enjoyed it once I was able to go back to reread and correct. There's fluff here people, but what else is new? I just love the relationship between Jack and Jamie! But I'm also exploring Jack's relationships with the other four Guardians, two of them making appearances here, which was a ton of fun to write as I explored their characters.  
**

**I hope you like it, and if you feel the need to leave a review, go on ahead!**

**StarKatt427**

* * *

Jack landed with a hard thud on the floor, having just enough time to twist his body so that he took the brunt of the impact, sliding several inches and banging his shoulders as the portal spit him and Jamie out. The breath was torn from his lungs in a pained gasp, just as a throbbing shot up his shoulder blades and he lost hold of his staff.

Jamie snapped awake, looking around frantically with unfocused eyes, hands fastening to the front of his sweatshirt.

"You're okay," he said quickly, a hand coming up almost automatically to press to the back of his head, urging him down, ignoring his aching back as best he could. "Just sleep."

Without any more resistance, Jamie fell limp against him once more, dead to the world.

Letting out a relieved breath once he managed to suck enough air into his lungs, Jack simply lay still for a moment where he was sprawled in the middle of the Globe Room; the Globe of Belief that monitored the world's children was towering above him, the sitting area and fireplace behind him when he craned his head back. It was quiet, which was strange, because the elves were usually running amok and the Yetis were always towering over everyone, and it was dark, no fire roaring and nothing lit save the twinkling gold light of the Globe.

And then he remembered it was nighttime.

Which meant North would mostly likely be in bed.

Searching out North's private chambers was something Jack didn't have time for (one reason being he never could find the old man's room), so the only other thing he could think of was getting him to the Globe Room. Watchful of the little bundle in his arms, Jack lifted himself up enough so that he was able to grab his staff. Then, trying to cover Jamie's ears with his other arm and chest, he slammed the base of his weapon onto the floor with a loud _CRACK_, sending out a shock wave of wind and ice throughout most of the castle.

The wind echoed for several long seconds, ice shooting out over the floors and walls and ceilings in spindly, beautiful designs, and then there was silence except for their breathing. Jamie remained unmoving against him, somehow undisturbed by the resounding boom of his magic, while Jack began counting off the seconds in his head. Once he reached sixty, he called back the frost that crept along the massive building and waited.

It didn't take very long. The room was soon flooded with light, each flickering on one by one, until Jack was squinting against the brightness. The sound of large, heavy footsteps outside the room, coming up the hall, had Jack's gaze locked on the doors.

Which burst open with enough force that they slammed back into the walls and had both Jack and Jamie jolting, followed by a deep, Russian voice: "WHAT IN THE WORLD IS GOING _ON _HERE?" North demanded, obviously woken from sleep and not happy about it, from where he stood in the entryway with several sleepy eyed elves and two Yetis trailing behind him.

Jamie jumped at the bellow, though did not wake, but Jack immediately had his hands over the little boy's ears before looking back to his fellow Guardian.

Under normal circumstances, Jack would have been amused by the sight before him: Nicholas St. North, deadly swordsman and toy bringer extraordinaire, was in a nightgown, topped off with a nightcap. He had a sword in each hand, however, and his eyes were blazing with annoyance and rage so that he was still almost as scary as when dressed in his furs.

Now, Jack couldn't find anything to laugh about, not when he was still trying to keep from panicking.

Electric blue eyes locking on Jack where he was half sitting on the floor, North's expression lightened into annoyance and confusion. "Jack? Even causing trouble for me in my sleep, I see." North finally seemed to notice the fact that he had a child held in his arms; he inhaled sharply, looking back to Jack.

Jack could almost feel the expression on his face: alarm, anger. But all he could do was stare back at him, mouth open.

North's features settled into dread. "What has happened?"

Jack shook his head, almost desperate as he motioned to Jamie. "Not now."

Shooing aside the elves crowded around his feet, North took surprisingly quick steps and was soon kneeling beside Jack, examining Jamie's face, still stained with tears. He lifted a large hand and, with a touch Jack hadn't known about until he'd truly gotten to know the large man, brushed aside the hair that had fallen into Jamie's eyes. He looked back to Jack. "Come, I have a place he can sleep."

"Wait," Jack said quickly. "I…I don't want him far." _From my sight._

North simply nodded.

Jack carefully made it to his feet, managing not to jostle the sleeping child as he followed after North, who was motioning for the Yetis to light a fire and quietly cursing in Russian at the few elves who did not move out of his way. North opened the double doors, then turned left and entered a much smaller sitting area. Once the light was on and Jack inside, he somehow smiled, because this was often where he woke up when he stayed at North's, always in the large chair where he'd either fallen asleep or the much older man had placed him.

It was right next to the conference room, close enough for Jack to be assured.

At least, that was what he told himself.

"Jack."

He turned to North, the man standing in the doorway and watching him with something he didn't entirely understand. He stared back expectantly, and only then noticed him motioning downward with his eyes. Confused, Jack followed his gaze, only to find that North was looking at the sleeping boy in his arms. One of Jack's hands gently cradled the back of Jamie's head, pressing him into his shoulder, the other wrapped protectively around his back.

A little surprised to find that he was still holding onto Jamie and even more so by the fact that he didn't entirely want to lay him down, Jack blinked for a moment, then looked back to North. "I…ah…"

North smiled warmly. "It is alright to put him down, Jack. No one here will harm him."

"I know that."

"Then why haven't you let him go?"

Maybe because he felt better, knowing Jamie was in his arms in case he was attacked by another nightmare, though he doubted that; it was mostly because he didn't want to lose the contact. But he did lay Jamie gently down on the large sofa, reluctant to release the little body, both because he still felt that protectiveness and because of just how comforting it was to know Jamie was safe and real and in his arms.

"Ah," North began. "I truly must be popular, what with all the company."

Jack turned around quickly, then released a relieved breath at the golden, swirling sand that was beginning to slide through the doorway, Sanderson Mansnoozie following behind. Tired and anxious as he was, Jack still smiled. "Sandy."

The Sandman smiled that eye crinkling smile, but when his eyes landed on the sleeping Jamie behind Jack, his face saddened into obvious concern. He looked up at North, some silent understanding passing between them that Jack couldn't comprehend; it was slightly amused and a little touched and also a tad sad, so he could only imagine it had something to do with Jamie.

"Sandy, you...?"

In answer, several images flashed above Sanderson's head as he looked back at him, and if Jack hadn't had the last year-and-a-half to learn his friend's picture language, he would have been entirely lost; as if knowing Jack wasn't entirely up for deciphering images at the moment, Sandy went slow enough that Jack could understand: NOTICED JAMIE'S DREAM DISAPPEARED. SENSED A NIGHTMARE. SAW BLACK SAND. CAME HERE TO WARN NORTH.

Good old Sandy, always watching out for his sleeping children.

North cleared his throat softly. "Let us return to the Globe Room to discuss what has happened."

With one last look at Jamie, Jack trailed after them, unable to get rid of the feeling that Jamie shouldn't be alone. So caught up in his thoughts was he that he nearly collided with a large, furry figure, stepping back lightly just in time to avoid slamming into a Yeti.

Jack stared. "Phil?"

The Yeti made an affirmative noise, then looked the room just behind Jack.

Something lightened slightly in his chest when he realized Phil was offering to sit watch over Jamie. He finally nodded. "Just make sure you're quiet."

With that, Phil stepped into the room, surprisingly light on his feet for a creature his size, and Jack trekked back to the middle of North's castle.

He watched as North sheathed his swords in the belt around his waist, then lean back against the mantle, a warm fire now glowing behind him. "Whatever has happened must be serious, to have you both so shaken. It is not normal for you to be so quiet, Sandy."

Jack wasn't sure if he was joking or not. If he was, he didn't find it funny.

North concentrated on him for a moment, then sighed, rubbing a hand over his face and in the process knocking his cap off, where it fell to the floor unnoticed. "I assume this involves Jamie."

"You assume correctly," Jack said, trying not to let his anger sneak into his words; it wasn't aimed at North, and he knew he would understand that, but now that Jamie wasn't in his arms and keeping him focused entirely on him, the fury was swirling through him quickly. He was unable to stay still, walking around the room and flipping his staff around almost violently as he paced, trying to keep his powers in check so that he didn't start forming icicle stalagmites on the floor.

Or worse, break apart like ice. He wasn't sure how long he was going to be able to hold up, anger and fear battling inside him.

Finally feeling like he had calmed enough so that if he stopped moving he wouldn't explode the entire workshop in ice, Jack faced North. "This was Pitch."

The surprise was evident on North's face, but it never changed to disbelief; he already knew not to underestimate the Boogeyman. More than anything, there was acceptance in his features as his hands went almost without thought to his swords. "You are sure?"

Before Jack had a chance to blow up at his ridiculous question, Sandy intervened by giving a very solemn nod.

North grabbed at his beard, clearly unsettled by the new knowledge. It bothered Jack more than he thought it should have that North questioned him and not Sandy; but, then again, they had several hundred years worth of friendship between them. "Alright. Explain what happened."

"It's pretty obvious: Pitch hijacked Jamie's dream, made it a nightmare." Jack tugged at his hair, trying to keep himself from stomping around the room again. "I thought it took him hundreds of years before he was strong enough to attack after the last time. So why is it possible for him to do it now?"

Sandy stopped him, hands held up to tell him to slow down, and though Jack didn't want to, he forced himself to breath deeply enough that his anger didn't shoot out again. Sandy's expression was calm, trying to relax him enough to speak slowly. SLOW DOWN. EXPLAIN.

Jack heaved a sigh, looking back to the silent North, waiting for the explanation Sandy knew he needed. "I met Jamie after school yesterday, told him I'd come by later and hang out. I got caught up with stuff, and time got away from me, and…" Jack changed thought then, not wanting to remember the pain he'd felt when he'd realized he would never make it in time. "I got there around midnight, and I could _feel _him. Pitch. Maybe he wasn't physically there, but part of him was. When I got to Jamie, Pitch had him in the middle of a nightmare."

Over the course of his explanation, Jack had resumed his pacing, trying to press down the pure rage in his stomach and only managing to partly by forcing it into raw power that brewed inside of his body. He could feel it, building into a mass of fury and fear and absolute hatred, fusing with his powers so that wherever he stepped, ice shot out of the floor, his staff glowing an almost white blue at the magic surging through him.

North, obviously noticing the sudden drop in temperature, took a few steps closer but still kept his distance, leery. "Jack. You must try to calm down."

"How can you ask me to calm down when Jamie was just targeted by Pitch? He already tried once before to get rid of his belief, and when that didn't work, he would have…" Jack trailed off, unable to not shudder as he remembered the alley that night, the small body he blocked protectively, the creeping, reaching shadows of Pitch as he tried to reach Jamie. _There's more than one way to snuff out a light._

"Jack, I understand that you are angry, but _you have got to calm down_."

"You don't get it!" Jack shouted, unable to keep his voice contained and glad there were closed doors between him and Jamie, because at this moment, he didn't even care how loud he got. "I could barely get him under control, he was so shaken up by that nightmare. I had no idea what to do! I felt weak, and useless, and I…" Jack's voice cracked suddenly, the words catching in his throat as his rage suddenly settled, the raw ache in his chest taking over when he remembered Jamie sobbing against him. "I _hate _seeing him like that," he said brokenly, shoulders sagging and the power within him slowly settling. "I don't want to ever see him cry again."

Just like that, most of the wrath leeched out of his body, fear and anger at himself and guilt sending him sliding down against the wall, staff clattering to the floor and knees drawing up so that his head hung between them, arms on his upraised thighs. He couldn't stand reliving Jamie in the middle of Pitch's nightmare, little face pinched with pain and fear, the crying and shivering and the fact that _Jamie couldn't see him _for a minute finally catching up with him.

Jack heard North walk toward him, knew Sandy was probably near as well, but he didn't look up, pressing the base of his palms into his eyes and snatching at his hair. "Why…why is it this bad?" he croaked.

A large hand encased his shoulder, surprisingly gentle, and Jack finally looked up to see North's smiling ever so slightly at him, something similar to pain in his eyes, and Jack didn't feel like a Guardian at that moment: he felt like one of the children he was supposed to protect. He felt small and terrified and in need of something safe and familiar.

North and Sandy would be that for him.

"Easy," North said. "You love him. As Guardians, it is our duty to protect the children, and loving them is just a part of that. It comes naturally to us; it's part of who we are. You, however, feel it a bit more keenly. Jamie is first child to believe in you, _ever_, the first one to see you, and because of that, you share something special with him."

Jack curled in on himself a little more. "It hurts. _Really _hurts. If I hadn't been late, Pitch wouldn't have been able to get to him. If I'd just been there—"

"Pitch would have found another opportunity. Jack, this is _not _your fault."

Jack wasn't so sure about that, but when a small, much lighter hand patted his head and he looked to find Sandy smiling that gentle smile of his, he nodded, willing himself to believe them.

North offered him his hand, straightening up so that he towered over him. "Now, we must figure out what this means. Are you alright, Jack?"

Jack nodded, then again, and took North's hand while grabbing his staff with the other, back on his feet and feeling more stable. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply. "How can he be back already?" He didn't need to elaborate.

North walked to the fireplace, the flames reflected in his eyes as he stared into them. "I'm not sure. He shouldn't, not when we had him in hiding for so long. It's impossible for him to have recovered so much strength in such a short time."

"But he has. Somehow, he's got power."

"Jack—"

"You saw what happened last time. You _felt _it. Tooth couldn't even fly, Bunny regressed, and you turned into an old man! And Sandy…" Jack's throat thickened, still able to feel the pain of losing the eldest Guardian in their group of five, even though the dreams of Jamie and his friends had restored him. He looked to Sandy, saw his sad smile, and took a breath. "What I mean is, you guys thought he was gone before, but he wasn't. And he's not now."

North didn't seem upset with his outburst, having had time to become used to them, but simply nodded with what Jack said. "You are right. Both of you felt his presence in one way or another. If Sandy could sense a dream transforming into a nightmare, that meant a great deal of power was being used to do so. And Pitch should not have that much at his disposal, not where he could just use it so easily." North stroked his beard, pulled far away in his thoughts. "To make an attack in such a short period of time, Pitch would have to have regained much power. There aren't many children believing in him, so that isn't where he found strength." He looked at Jack, face bleak. "The only possible explanation is that he's been waiting, saving every bit of energy until he deemed it time to attack."

Beside Jack, Sandy's golden eyes widened a little, hands motioning fast to Jack, who watched the sand images forming above his hand: three people, one tall and deathly thin that must have represented Pitch, the other with a staff in his hand and the one next to him about a foot shorter: him and Jamie. A watch formed above them, followed by an arrow between Pitch's figure and Jack's and Jamie's, pointing at the two.

What little color Jack's face had fled down his neck. "You think he's been watching us? He _planned _this?"

North lifted a shoulder. "Would make sense. If he has been storing power, what better time to attack than when you show up, only to leave Jamie—"

"Alone and vulnerable," he finished, cringing at the words and the truth of them. "I get it. But _how _does he have that much power? How was he able to even conserve it?"

North was quiet a moment, and since Sandy never spoke, the room seemed to become too silent, too still for Jack as he stood there, trying not to begin walking around again.

"Jack," North finally began, "you destroyed the Fearling, correct?"

"Yeah?"

"What happened to it?"

"It turned into black ice and exploded. Only a little bit managed to slip out the window."

North smiled grimly. "This is guess, but it's the best we have. It's almost a fact that Pitch has been gathering power since that morning after Easter, accumulating all that he had left and gaining just a little. And since you said you sent enough of a shock through the nightmare that it literally blew up, destroying it probably took almost everything out of him, since he would have had to put everything into it, which means he's weak again, possibly more so than before. If I'm right, he shouldn't be able to do anything else for a long while."

"_Shouldn't _isn't the same as _won't_," Jack said. To know that Pitch had been watching him, watching _Jamie_, and waiting for a chance to strike made his anger try to bubble back up, but he managed to hold it in. When he thought about it, North's theory made sense, and from the look on the Sandman's face, he thought so as well; still, it wasn't a guarantee. "Does this mean we're going to have to keep a constant watch out for him? What if he gets enough power to try an attack like this again? And why, if he's been watching Jamie, did he strike when he knew I would be coming back?"

Neither said anything, but North and Sandy looked to each other in a silent conversation, leaving Jack once again in the dark and not liking it. Finally, North nodded. "Listen carefully, Jack. We've known Pitch longer than you. That does not make much of a difference, but we know just what he is capable of. Because of one child, the belief in us was restored and we were able to overcome him. And because of this, he hates that child just as much as us. This…this was nothing compared to him at full power. He didn't hate Jamie before; if he came back now, with all his power intact, who knows what he might try?"

The temperature around Jack plummeted, his vision flashing to a messy head of brown hair, big caramel eyes that unconsciously had latched onto him. Jack felt ice surge up his spine. "If he so much and looks at Jamie, I swear, I'll freeze—"

Once again, it was Sandy to calm him down, this time with a touch to his side, which was the highest he could reach from the floor. It instantly relaxed Jack enough so that he wasn't about to freeze the nearest object in sight, causing an ever so slight lethargic affect that Jack knew came from the sleep sand Sandy had lightly infused with his touch. Still wanting to be enraged but too subdued now to be, Jack muttered under his breath. "No fair."

Sandy simply shrugged, looking only a little apologetic.

Taking a few moments to compose himself so that his voice was even once more, Jack asked North, "Aren't you going to call Tooth and Bunny, let them know?"

With a quick shake of his head, North looked over to the control that sent out the Guardian signal. "There is nothing to be done right now. Let them have one more good night of rest before we tell them. All we can do for now is be more cautious, watch the shadows and be prepared for anything." North looked back to Jack, elderly face lifting in a soft smile that didn't reach his eyes. "You, my friend, could probably use some rest as well."

Jack blinked, a bit surprised but not denying it; since he'd felt Pitch's presence and had found Jamie in the state he was in, he felt like he'd aged another three hundred years. "I can manage," he finally said.

Sandy looked at him doubtfully, but gave no inkling as to what he was thinking.

North chuckled, deep and tired. "You haven't seen yourself in a while, have you?"

"…no."

He watched as North unsheathed one of his swords, then stepped forward, holding it out for him. "See for yourself."

Jack took the sword, holding the blade up like a mirror.

In all honesty, he was a sight. His snowy hair, already messy and spiked, was even worse from him constantly tugging frantic fingers through it, his face paler than usual, eyes startling blue and slightly unsteady, fragile ice, dark circles beneath them. A thin slit marred his left cheek, the result of the nightmaresand shard.

He handed the weapon back, hand raking through his hair without thinking.

North seemed to look almost smug, but his eyes were gentle. "Take care of Jamie. And when you are done, get some sleep. And if you don't, I can always get Sandy to help."

Jack gave Sandy a slight glare as he remembered the last time the Sandman had put him to sleep: he'd ended up slumbering in Jamie's bed and waking up not wanting to leave. But he wasn't really mad, and Sandy knew it, an almost mischievous smile spreading across his round face. Jack smirked. "You'd have to catch me first."

Sandy looked up for the challenge, but North didn't give them a chance to continue, letting out a loud, yawned holler as he stretched his arms above his head. "Now, everyone, I do believe it's getting too late for company, so I suggest we retire for the night. I'm sure you can see yourselves out? We'll meet here tomorrow."

Jack nodded, as did Sandy, no longer joking around.

But then Jack remembered that tomorrow—today, actually—was the beginning of winter, that he had to make it up to Jamie for not arriving on time, and he stepped toward North, not knowing how to ask without sounding like he was whining. "North, about tomorrow—"

"First day of winter, no?" He gave Jack a knowing smile, then nodded. "The morning and most of the afternoon should be plenty of time for you to cause some trouble, I think. Try to get away before dark. You too, Sandy."

Thankful, half of Jack's mouth lifted in a small smile.

The bearded man turned away, but stopped as his eyes caught something on the floor: his nightcap. Picking it up, he kept it in one hand as he walked to the doors and opened one wide. "Oh, and Jack?"

"Hmm?"

Nicholas St. North looked over his shoulder, a glint in his eyes that Jack had grown quite fond of. "My door is always open if you need a place to rest your head." He smirked, just a little. "Though I imagine you'll be needed elsewhere tonight."

Jack, knowing good and well what he meant and that it probably would play out that way, actually smiled a real smile that reached his eyes for the first time in hours. "I'll keep that in mind."

North said nothing, only chuckled as he slipped away, presumably returning to bed.

With North gone and no more conversation, the room was quiet; this wasn't a bad thing, as Jack often felt comfortable with silence, having had a long time to grow used to it, and since Sandy only spoke with pictures, it was an easy silence that now filled the room. It gave Jack the time he needed to let go of his remaining anger, push down whatever fears he had, before he went to get Jamie and take him back to Burgess.

When the quiet had finally done it's job, Jack looked to Sandy, who seemed content with just standing there watching him, as if he could see into his head; but maybe he could, since his magic was able to make any dream come to life, including Jack's. "I guess I'd better get Jamie home."

Sandy nodded, then floated to Jack, motioning to the door with his head: a clear request to come along.

Jack felt himself smile slightly, nodding as he began walking to the door.

They exited the Globe Room, Sandy just behind Jack as they walked down the hall and entered the sitting area where he'd earlier deposited Jamie, only to find him still sound asleep, Phil contently watching over him.

Yetis might be have been intimidating, what with their size and height, but Jack knew Phil was a big softie and especially liked the big guy. He dipped his head in acknowledgement and thanks as Phil stood, something like a smile behind the mass of fur on his face as he glanced down at Jamie one last time before leaving.

Jack walked to the couch, looking down over Jamie, and a soft smile played on his lips as he kneeled beside him, pleased in the fact that his sleep was peaceful. Lips parted on the deep, even breaths he inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth, his arms were tucked against his chest, and it was only now that Jack noticed he was missing a sock.

Sandy came up on his right, and Jack didn't have to look to know he was smiling contently, always loving when children slept, as it was the only time he could give them the dreams they wished for the loudest. A small, golden hand reached out, touching Jamie's head in a gentle pat.

The action reminded Jack of something, and looking to his fellow Guardian, he asked quietly, "Sandy…could you…?" He trailed off, as close to begging as he'd ever gotten.

The Sandman's face broke out in a sudden sweet smile, clearly understanding Jack's silent question to give Jamie good dreams for the rest of the night.

Jack smiled back in silent appreciation, tired and still a bit unsteady but more at ease now as he stood back up, leaning over to pick Jamie up. "You know his dreams. Give him whatever he wants most, please."

Even in sleep, Jamie recognized Jack; at the sound of the spirit's voice, the child reached up and curled his arms around his neck, nuzzling his face sleepily against Jack's throat and not flinching away from the cold his body radiated.

Jack stiffened ever so slightly, still not entirely used to such physical contact or the long forgotten warmth it caused inside him, but then he lifted the child up more, leaning his own face against Jamie's appreciatively. _Thanks, kid._

* * *

Sandy gave him a ride back to Burgess on his sand clouds so by the time Jack landed inside Jamie's bedroom, he was beginning to feel the affects of the trip catching up with him, namely the fact that he was even more tired and sleepy than before. With the assurance that Sandy would send a trail of dreams down once Jack had Jamie comfortably situated, he carried the sleeping child to bed and tried to let him slip free from his arms, only to find that the hands locked around his neck refused to unlatch, Jamie's arms clinging firmly to him. Jack blew out his breath, smiling slightly; now he knew where Sophie got it from.

Luckily, Jamie was quicker to let go than his sister was, and Jack soon had him covered up, though a part of him instantly craved the weight of him in his arms again. He stood over him, watching, wondering not for the first time what nightmare could have plunged him into such terror, but at the same time not wanting to know. The tear tracks had completely dried from his face, and besides the exhaustion Jack could see in his features, there were no other outward indications that he had woken nearly two hours before from something dark and disturbing.

Without being aware of it, Jack had sat on the edge of the bed, taking in the deep, soft breathing of the sleeping child, Jamie's face serene and free from pain of distress or anything else besides sweet sleep. He was safe.

For now.

Jack's head fell forward, eyes slipping shut as he remembered Pitch was somewhere in the shadows, waiting for the next time to strike. He'd gone after Jamie knowing Jack would return, knowing how he would react, baiting him and making his presence known.

And it had worked: Jack had never hated someone before, but Pitch was something else all together. At a time, he had felt bead for the dark spirit, almost sympathized with him, knowing first hand the pain and loneliness of not being believed in, of someone never extending a hand of compassion or friendship. These emotions had disappeared, though, once Jack had grown to care for the Guardians and had realized everything Pitch spewed from his tongue was evil: no good, no light left in the world. By the end of the final fight, Jack had still felt that small sense of pity, but it was mostly overshadowed by the knowledge that Pitch was everything children weren't supposed to be, that he could never give them that twinkle of wonder or fun laughter or pure dreams, never any hope of beautiful memories.

Now, however, Jack realized he actually hated the Boogeyman. It was hot in a way that should have been impossible for him, a sizzling in his center that was the darkest thing he had ever felt, and all it had taken for it to sprout was Pitch targeting his child.

Eyes opening, Jack looked back to Jamie. _His child._ He felt his mouth twitch.

North was right: Jamie really _was _his in a sense that no other child could ever be.

And right now, his child needed sleep undisturbed.

Even if it meant Jack couldn't stay.

Reaching out so his fingers just barely touched Jamie's hair, Jack stood up, wishing he could at least remain a little longer but knowing he still had work to do if he wanted to get snow on the ground for Jamie tomorrow. Honestly, he wouldn't have minded to simply stay the whole night; even if Pitch was unable to execute another attack, he felt better knowing Jamie was in his sight.

With once last look toward Jamie, Jack reached the window, quiet in a way no human could never be as he began slipping it open.

Soft mumbling, not from a nightmare but from waking up, and Jack froze, silently cursing. He hadn't meant to wake him; what if he started crying again? Jack wasn't sure he could handle more tears, both physically and emotionally. He turned around.

Jamie was blinking groggily up at him, eyes puzzled at first before settling. Jack waited, nervous as to what might happen.

Finally, Jamie gave him a sleepy smile that Jack was amazed to find absolutely endearing. "Jack."

Body relaxing, he returned the sentiment. "The one and only."

Jamie simply stared up at him for a minute, eyes a little scrunched as if trying to figure out if he was dreaming or not. Finally deciding he was awake, the nine-year-old breathed out deeply. "You came."

His smile wobbled. "Of course I did. I told you I would."

Jamie began to sit up, and though part of Jack wanted to push him down so he'd go back to sleep, he didn't, instead watching as he rubbed at an eye with his fist, blinking away sleep. "I fell asleep waiting."

Jack's throat thickened with the reminder of his failure, and then he was walking back to the bed, sitting down without thinking and putting an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close and eliciting a startled little breath. "I'm sorry."

Jack had figured Jamie would pull away, ask as to why he had been late or at least shake him off in confusion. Instead, he heard a soft, sleepy sigh, felt a head burrow into his shoulder. "It's okay. You still came, right?"

_This kid…has way too much faith in me._

Not quite yet able to speak past the knot in his throat, Jack curved Jamie against him so that the child's knees touched his legs, chin resting on his the boy's head as he nodded. "Always will."

He heard Jamie sigh, could almost see him smile.

The nightlight was still off, the bulb blown, but it wasn't dark with the moonlight glowing in through the window, instead comfortable. Jack sat like that for several minutes, simply appreciating the heated little body against his, but the longer he stayed silent and still, the more he could feel his eyes getting heavy, his body begging for just a few hours of sleep, though he knew he needed to be working on a nice snowfall. And Jamie never spoke either, which had him wondering if he'd fallen back asleep; hopefully, he had. "Jamie?" he whispered.

"Hmm?"

There went that plan. He hadn't expected him to answer, even though he had a legitimate question, but now that Jamie was waiting, Jack didn't have time to change it. "Do you…?" _Do you remember your nightmare? _Jack wanted to know, he wanted to know so badly what nightmare had haunted his believer, but he was too afraid to actually ask, not sure how much the kid remembered and what kind of disposition it would have him in.

"Do I remember it?"

Jack pulled back enough to look at Jamie, only to find the child staring up at him with shaded eyes, clearly warring with the black terror he'd suffered. He said nothing, silence the only answer Jamie would need.

Jamie's gaze swept downward, looking at his fingers as he pulled at the material of his comforter. He sucked in his bottom lip, then lay his head back against Jack. "I don't want to talk about it. Is that okay?"

A squeezing pressure in his chest; Jamie didn't even have to ask that. Jack tightened his hold, pulling him close enough so he could rest his head back on his head. "Yeah, it's fine."

Then they were quiet again, so much so that Jack once against hoped Jamie would drift, but every so often he would hear him sigh or feel him shift, actions still lucid enough to be awake. But eventually, it seemed he was beginning to still, his breaths becoming deeper, the only downside of this being that Jack was rapidly slipping toward slumber as well thanks to the last few hours and the ride on Sandy's clouds.

North's door was open, as it always was, but at this moment, Jack knew he was where he belonged.

So he gently pulled Jamie down, soothing him when he startled and assuring him more with actions than words as he slid so that they were both lying down, Jamie beneath his covers and Jack next to him on top of them. Jack could see Jamie perfectly because of Man in Moon illuminating the room; caramel eyes looking at him, quiet and sleepy and amazingly large, searching for something in Jack that had him again wondering just what Jamie had dreamed.

He placed his hand to the back of Jamie's head, cupping it gently and smiling crookedly. "Sleep. I'm not going anywhere."

Jamie, blinking, gave a quick little smile back, before promptly snuggling in close to Jack, unaffected by his cold partly due to the blankets. His breathing was warm and drowsy against Jack's neck, and a small hand slid free from the covers, arm reaching around to hold onto Jack as he burrowed in deeper.

And as Jack let his eyes close, sure he could see a faint golden light from behind is eyelids, he was content.

It didn't take long for both of them to be cast under Sandy's spell and slip into a sweet sleep.

* * *

Jack, never one for staying motionless very long, woke a little before dawn, still a few more hours until kids on Saturday should be waking up. He wasn't too surprised to find the right side of his body oddly warm, or to find himself in a familiar bedroom.

He _was _surprised, however, when he looked over at Jamie and found him staring right back, eyes awake but still obviously sleepy, hair bed messy. "How long have you been awake?" Jack asked.

"Just a minute or two." Jamie's face split in a yawn, and he rubbed at his eyes, giving Jack the chance to let a quiet chuckle shake him at the action. "I don't know why I woke up so early. I was kind of surprised you were still here."

Jack smiled, even as something in him grew congested. "I didn't think you'd be up already. I gotta get going soon."

Jamie watched him, silent, and he finally smiled, looking strangely content. "I know."

_Oh. It's because I'm still here._

Jack allowed himself another few minutes of rest, of letting his eyes stay shut and having Jamie's human warmness against him and just resting in a way that he never did and enjoying every moment of it. But as the darkness of the room began to lessen, Jack sat up, wiping the sleep sand from his own his staff where he had put it against the wall a few hours ago, Jack floated up until he was standing on the floor, watching as Jamie slid out from beneath his blankets to sit up so that they were simply looking at each other. Jack half smiled. "I've got my work cut out for me. No one will be expecting the freak snow when they wake up this morning."

Jamie looked at his lap, a remorseful little expression on his face that Jack didn't like at all. "Sorry."

"What for?"

"If you hadn't stayed with me last night, you wouldn't have to be working so hard now."

Jack laughed, though it didn't sound very genuine, trying to brush his worries off. "Give me some credit. I can have a good snow on the ground in an hour tops, maybe less."

Jamie wasn't smiling. "Jack."

Sighing, Jack's own smile slipped slightly as he stood at the side of the bed, looking down at the troubled kid, emotions sparking through him once again as he remembered last night. He wasn't suffering from the panic anymore, the encounter being long over, but he would always remember the pain he'd felt at seeing Jamie like that. He reached out, hand giving Jamie's shoulder a squeeze. "Where else would I be other than with you when you're afraid? I didn't do it just because I'm a Guardian: I stayed because you're my friend."

That didn't seem to encompass everything Jamie truly was to Jack, but the sprite still didn't know how to express all that he felt, this being the closest he could get without his emotions choking him off; it took a lot for him to admit this, even if it was the truth. Jack just wasn't very good at expressing his deepest feelings, too much time in solitude leaving a lasting effect on him.

He pulled in, face close to Jamie's. "Okay?"

The brunette child said nothing, instead watching him with those expressive caramel eyes, before finally nodding, mouth tugging upward in a small smile.

Satisfied, Jack straightened, looking out into the darkness before dawn, already beginning to imagine the snowfall he was going to create, the wind and the chill and the children—_Jamie_—laughing. "If I'm going to get enough snow on the ground to stick, I really do need to leave."

Jamie nodded. "Okay. I'll see you later, right?"

There was nothing but hope in that voice; no doubt, no scorn, and it tore at a piece of Jack while simultaneously seeming to repair it. Even after he had let him down, Jamie still had confidence in him. "Definitely. Before I head out, though, I've got something for you."

Like any child, Jamie was obviously curious, watching Jack as he pulled in a tight fist, a faint glow seeping out through his fingers as magic mingled together. When he opened his hand, extending it to Jamie, there was a small ice orb resting in the center of his palm, similar in size to the snow globe Jack had used only a few hours earlier; this one was blue-white, however, and it worked quite differently.

Eyes large, Jamie crawled so that he was on his knees, looking at the orb. "What is it?"

"A present," Jack answered, dropping it into Jamie's hands, watching as his eyes grew even wider as the cold registered. "It'll never melt, and it won't break unless _you _break it. If you need me, for anything, squeeze this until it busts. And I'll come."

Jamie cradled the gift, nodding as he looked back up. Then, catching Jack slightly off guard, he threw his arms around his neck and squeezed him as fiercely as a nine-year-old child could.

After only a surprised moment, Jack's arms wrapped around Jamie's shoulders, chin resting on his shoulder; the child was still obviously a bit unsteady from his experience with Pitch, and like most children, required a great deal of physical comfort. Jack wasn't the best at that, but it was clearly more than enough, because he had managed to calm Jamie so that he actually slept again. Jack knew he wasn't just thanking him for the gift, but also for staying, keeping him safe, and this was the best "thank you" Jack could ever get. So he held him tight, not minding the heat against his body because he knew it was dear to him. It was so rare that he ever felt any sort of warmth, and he wasn't too surprised to realize that it actually was nice.

Deep in his shoulder, Jamie spoke. "Thank you."

Jack laughed softly, rubbing his back through his shirt. "Anytime, kid."

When it finally occurred to him that Jamie was still holding on tight to him and that sunrise was steadily approaching, Jack tugged himself back a little. "Time to let go."

Jamie's arms constricted. "Then you do it."

He laughed, in turn squeezing the child closer, not quite yet ready to end this either. But after a minute, he finally did, and Jamie let him, though Jack could see he would have been happy just staying where he had been for another few hours, falling back asleep until the sun was actually out. But Jack couldn't do that; he needed to make this the best snow day Jamie ever had, and though he had felt something similar to what was written so clearly on Jamie's face, he had released him, letting his hand come up to briefly lift Jamie's chin.

"I'll see you soon. Really soon."

Jack walked to the window, the one he had slid in and out of so many times since first meeting Jamie, this room and everything about it well-known to him. In a way, this was also a place of rest, like how North's castle was or the clouds Sandy created or the palace where Tooth and the fairies resided or even Bunny's Warren.

Then he heard covers being thrown aside behind him, bare feet on the floor, and Jack turned around to find Jamie just a foot from him, mouth opening as if he were about to speak before closing. "What's up?" Jack prompted.

Jamie watched him with solemn eyes, then abruptly lifted his hand, thumb over his first three fingers and pinky extended.

Jack furrowed his eyebrows. "What's this?"

"A promise," Jamie explained. "I promise to never forget you, and you promise to not forget me."

Though more touched than anything, Jack also felt a sudden sadness. "I'm never going to forget you, Jamie. You don't have to worry about that."

Slowly, Jamie smiled, eyes sleepy but somehow awake and utterly perfect, the very essence of what made a child a child: complete faith. "Neither do you. I was scared because I couldn't see you; I could feel you and hear you, but it was like you were invisible. I know it was just the nightmare, but still…I didn't like it." His eyes darkened with the memory of whatever nightmare had ensnared him, but then he smiled at Jack. "So I'm not got to forget you. A lot of kids will maybe, but…I won't." He shrugged, suddenly looking incredibly shy and completely adorable, a thought that had very rarely ever run through Jack Frost's head. "I just wanted to make sure you know that."

_I know, kid. I know._

Slowly, Jack lifted his own hand, wrapped his pinky with Jamie's. The child shook their linked hands up and down once, curling his finger with Jack's, pleased as he smiled at him. "There. And since it's a pinky promise, it can't be broken."

And Jack, who could barely remember any sense of inner warmth and only the comforting chill of winter, suddenly felt a tinge at his center that had first started the Easter before last, small and newborn but steadily growing with each passing day, a simple, innocent warmth that hadn't existed until a child finally saw him, smiled and laughed with him, increasing in strength with the promise made to him. It was exciting and frightening all at once, and though a tiny part of Jack, the part that sometimes still felt lonely and exiled, wanted to cocoon the heat in a thick glacier of ice, he refused to ever put it out.

He smiled. "Yeah. Thanks, kiddo."

* * *

Needless to say that when Jamie woke a few hours later, it was to find the entire area covered in a thick, perfect layer of white snow.

* * *

**Well, there ya go! Hope you all enjoyed this chapter and this little story as much as I did :) If you noticed any mistakes, please let me know so I can correct them.**

**And who knows? This could possibly lead up to a multiple chapter story one day!**


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